


As Good a Reason as Any

by Vampiracy



Category: South Park
Genre: Bad Math, Cryde Secret Valentine, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Pining, Romance, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3589074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiracy/pseuds/Vampiracy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craig isn't the type of guy that you can just hang out with. So Clyde makes up excuses to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Good a Reason as Any

**Author's Note:**

> Written for shiintaro for the cryde secret valentine exchange. I had a lot of fun with this one, I hope you like it!! :D For everyone else, the scenario was a humor/romance/friendship fic with Clyde making up excuses to see Craig more often. So, here you are! Please enjoy!

Sometimes people are untouchable.

Not like, celebrities or presidents or whatever – this was South Park, they came around a lot – but people. You could be in the same school, same grade, even the same classes as a person, but still not be worth their time. Not without a good reason.

Or a good plan.

The class bell chimed loud, but while the other students rushed to file out the door, Clyde Donovan hung around his desk and resisted the urge to turn around and sneak a look at the back corner. Instead he waited patiently, putting his pencil, book, and notes away, one at a time. When that was done he focused on his backpack; made himself struggle with the zippers, and after that, the straps. All until the flash of blue he’d been waiting for passed his desk and shuffled its way out of the classroom.

Clyde took just one more second to get his backpack in order before slinging it over his shoulder and following. He caught up to his target not all at once, but gradually. By the time he was halfway down the hall, he’d fallen into step.

“Oh, hey Craig,” he greeted, casual as ever. “What’s up?”

Craig Tucker granted him a glance, but didn’t pause. He didn’t respond either, though the slight hitch in his shoulder probably counted for at least half a shrug.

“Man,” Clyde went on with a sigh, “did you get _any_ of that?”

Craig’s eyes drifted to the ceiling. “Kind of,” he said shortly.

“Really? Because I was kind of starting to get all of the x and y stuff, but then she added z and it’s like, what? Three’s such a crowd.”

“Hm. I think I started to get it a little at the end.”

“Yeah?” Clyde asked eagerly, because this was exactly what he’d hoped for. “Dude, you’ve got to help me. Forget that test coming up, I don’t even understand the homework. Can you tutor me or something? Tonight, or tomorrow, or…” he trailed himself off.

Much to his relief, Craig looked like he was thinking about it. Thinking about it in that sort of way where you were more confused about the question than the answer, but thinking about it nonetheless. It was a good sign, but Clyde couldn’t release his breath just yet. He’d known Craig since grade school; had observed as he gradually turned down more and more invites, hangouts, and even dates, until people stopped bothering to ask. He was just one of those guys who preferred to keep his company to himself over sharing it for pointless social fun.

But – and here’s the thing – Clyde _wasn’t_ asking him to pointlessly hang out. He was asking him to _productively_ study. If there was ever a key to unlocking something other than his default response, this had to be it.

“Why aren’t you asking Token?” Craig asked.

“I’ve asked him before!” Clyde fibbed. “But he’s got Nichole, and I guess being a boyfriend is a full time thing,” he said with a shrug. “You’re not too busy dating someone too, are you?”

“Well, no.”

Clyde couldn’t resist; he made a fist on his non-Craig side and subtly pumped it. “So you can help me,” he replied more carefully, coming to a stop at the point in the hallway where he and Craig veered off for different classes.

Craig stopped too. He even went so far as to gaze back at him, giving Clyde a few suspenseful yet amazing moments of his real, undivided attention.

“Yeah, okay. Come over after school today. I’ll try to help you with anything you don’t get.”

And then he was gone, disappearing down the hall.

Clyde clutched the strap of his backpack a little tighter.

“Oh Craig, I don’t get _anything_ ,” he whispered dreamily before he took off for his next class, humming all the way. Everything passed in such a haze, it was hard to tell if he ever _stopped_ humming before he came to that fateful stop in front of Craig’s door after school.

“Yo!” Clyde greeted when Craig answered. “I got my book, and the homework,” he said, raising up his evidence.

Craig stepped aside, holding the door open in an invitation Clyde was more than happy to take. “My room’s up this way,” he said, turning to the staircase. “Come on.”

“Cool,” Clyde said, playing it exactly that. “Y’know, I haven’t seen your room since grade school,” he noted as he followed. “Do you still have Red Racer posters everywhere?” he had to ask.

“Do you still have toy dinosaurs?”

Touché.

And Craig’s room did not have Red Racer memorabilia, as it turned out.

It had snakes.

And spiders.

And apparently, a praying mantis.

It was _terrifying_.

“Dude. What. How. _Why_?” Clyde asked, staring at the far wall of his room with every intention of keeping it far. It looked like the uncomfortable part of a pet store.

“I like animals,” he replied, like Clyde was the abnormal one here.

“Animals? Animals are great. The ones with four legs. Not like, more than six or none at all.” Clyde turned away from the horrific display of creatures to look at Craig. “When did you get so _extremist_?”

Craig gave him a flat look. “Do you want my help or not?”

“…So snakes are actually really cute if you look at them the right way,” Clyde discovered.

“I thought so,” Craig snorted. “Come on, open to the chapter.”

So Clyde did. Then he started talking about everything he didn’t get, taking a while to get through it all because honestly? There were a lot of things he didn’t get. Like, this wasn’t entirely about getting to spend time with Craig here. Mostly, yeah, but not entirely.

But even when Craig tried to explain things to him, Clyde still had a hard time understanding it. In his defense, though, that was Craig’s fault completely. Not because of his teaching – he was probably like, imparting genius math wisdom and incorporating quotes from the inventor of the calculator – but all of it was underneath that amazingly charming voice of his that Clyde just couldn’t get past. Sure he’d expected to be a little distracted, but _damn_. He could listen to Craig talk forever, he didn’t care what he said.

Until he realized that that was probably rude, so he did gradually start to make a genuine effort to tune in and, yes, to actually study. And learn things. And do work.

It was kind of the worst.

“Okay,” Clyde said hours later after they’d moved to sit against Craig’s bed on the floor, both using the open books against their knees as surfaces. “So since z is x times y, that would make z,” he stopped to think, eyes roaming the scattered pieces of the equation on his paper. “Twelve?”

“No,” Craig said. Then he leaned over, reaching his hand into Clyde’s space to put a finger down on his notebook. “Look at this again. Remember when we figured out over here,” he moved his hand again, arm hovering dangerously close to Clyde’s chest, “that y was two? So then back here,” another slight shift as he pointed out what he need to. This time it was their shoulders that were nearly pressed together. “That would make x five, not six, see? So the answer is ten.”

“Ohhh. Ten. Yeah. …Explain why again?”

Craig turned his head to look at him, and only then did he seem to notice how close they were. He quickly cleared his throat and backed off. Then he grabbed his own notebook and handed it over. “Just copy and look at it later.”

“I can do that,” Clyde said, getting it done as fast as he could with what focus he still had.

In the meantime, Craig looked down at his textbook disdainfully. “There’s two left.”

“She always assigns us way too much, I sw- wait,” Clyde stopped, rereading the second to last question as he handed Craig back his notebook. Then he read it one more time just to be sure, and holy shit, “I know how to do this one!”

“You do?”

“Yeah!” Clyde put his pencil to paper right away to start working it out, because hot damn, he was in the _zone_. “You’re a good teacher, Craig,” he was sure to smile up and say.

“It’s not so hard,” Craig said, turning away before Clyde could see his exact reaction, but he thought he saw the start of a smile. Maybe he was hiding a blush too? Dare to dream. “You do that one then, I’ll do the last, and then let’s copy. I’m so over this.”

“Sweet,” Clyde agreed, doing his part so they could do just that, and finish the study night with two probably perfect assignments that would blow their math teach away.

-

“I don’t know what to think,” their math teacher confirmed the following week once the rest of the class was gone except for Craig and Clyde, who she had specifically kept behind. “You two have struggled in my class before, but this last assignment – the one I can only assume you worked on together based on your matching work and scores – is the absolute worst work I’ve seen from either of you the entire semester.”

Clyde didn’t even get the chance to look appropriately guilty at being caught sharing answers; he was too busy realizing what their teacher was saying.

“Now listen. I understand we’re getting into some difficult topics, and I don’t want any of my students to fail,” she said. It was probably true. She was one of the nicer teachers, just taught one of the meaner subjects. “I’m going to give both of you the chance to redo the homework. Everything we’ll be learning builds off of these two weeks, so you _need_ to understand it if you want to pass. Here,” she handed back their assignments, white paper, black writing, and red marks all over. “I did up some notes that should help you get on the right track. Fix everything you got wrong, show your work, and I’ll give you most of the credit. I think that’s beyond fair on my part, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Okay,” Craig said simply.

“Can we still work together?” Clyde asked.

She looked between them. “As an educator, I’m not sure I recommend that. Consequently, if you so happen to have matching answers again, but _better_ ones…” she leaned back in her chair. “Just do what you need to learn the material. You’re dismissed.”

Craig got up and walked off right away, forcing Clyde to follow suit to catch up.

He waited until they were a good enough ways down the familiar hall to speak up. “You really suck at math, huh?”

“Yeah, so?” Craig said defensively, like he’d been expecting this. “You’re the one who asked me for help. I told you you should have asked Token. Or better yet, figured it out yourself in the first place. You’d have a better grade right now, _I’d_ have a better grade right now, so I don’t know where you get off blaming _me_ for something _you_ decided-”

“Woah, woah, _dude_ ,” Clyde held up his hands. Like, sure he’d both entertained and loved the idea of having Craig on his back, but never like this. “First of all, I’m not blaming you for being bad. I mean, I’m bad. C’mon. Second of all, with our powers combined, we’re not just the worst but _the_ worst, and I think we need to take a second to appreciate the achievement that is. And back to first of all again, you’re not good at this and neither am I, so clearly we should have regular after school study sessions or whatever so we can _get_ good at this, you know? Figure things out together.”

Craig made a discontented noise at his proposal that Clyde almost took as a no. “I guess,” Craig reluctantly agreed instead. “It’s not like we could get any worse.”

While Craig groaned at his own words, Clyde rejoiced. _We_. Eat it bitches, he and Craig were going plural.

And so their study sessions were established, and truthfully, being shit at math couldn’t have turned out better. Not when it got him the exclusive social rights to Craig for a couple of hours for a couple of nights each week.

The parts where they actually studied and did work were still grating, but the company still made everything worth it. Plus, over the course of just a few weeks of their Tuesday and Thursday sessions, Clyde’s grades on math things steadily rose to low C’s, then middle C’s, and even skipped over the high C to land a pretty sweet B _minus_ once. Things were good.

“Hey. We’re not studying together tonight.”

And then they weren’t.

“What?” Clyde asked, more fearfully than he liked. “Why?” It wasn’t something he did, was it?

“I mean I can’t,” Craig clarified. “I got detention.”

“Detention?” he echoed. So it wasn’t something Clyde did, it was something Craig did. Nice. Except, damnit. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. So I’ll just see you next week.”

“Cool.” Not cool. “See you,” he said, and he ended up saying it to Craig’s back, because he was already walking away.

Clyde wasn’t surprised, so he didn’t let it disappoint him. Studying together didn’t change the fact that Craig didn’t waste time, not with anyone. It seemed so surreal that the school was even _allowed_ to keep him after regardless of what he did, but detention was detention.

Clyde sighed and went on his way, already starting to miss the time he would have spent with him. It looked like he’d just have to do something else with his Thursday night.

-

“Clyde?” Craig questioned as he looked up. “What are you doing here?”

“Same reason as you,” Clyde said, casually lifting up his detention slip like it wasn’t a well-earned trophy. “Absolute bullshit.”

“Ugh,” Craig said agreeably. “I flipped off my history teacher,” he disclosed, pulling out the chair next to him and nodding his head a little in a clear indication that Clyde should take it. Funny how such a small gesture made him feel so ecstatic.

“I fell asleep in English,” Clyde supplied as he sat down.

“I don’t know how I stay awake in English.”

“Right? But now we have to write a paper and man, I’m so behind. I have no idea what the stupid book was about, or even called. Hey, you get English pretty good, right?” he asked, like this had just occurred to him. “Can you help me figure it out?”

“We’re in different classes,” Craig pointed out.

“Same teacher.”

“Just use SparkNotes.”

That’s what Clyde usually did. “SparkNotes?” he questioned in lieu of revealing this. “Dude, I need you to show me what those are. Can I come over after detention?”

“It doesn’t take long,” he said, in a way that made Clyde’s heart jolt more than it did flutter. “I’ll just show you at lunch.” _That_ made it do both.

“What, tomorrow?” Clyde asked, just to make sure he was following this right.

“Yeah,” Craig said easily. “I’m not joining you and your football team, though. Do you know where I usually sit?”

Yes. “No. But that’s okay, we can just meet up by the lockers and walk together.”

“Fine by me.”

Clyde’s excitement was hardly extinguished when the teacher supervising their detention walked in and called for silence. He didn’t care if he had to sit in here forever; he could keep sending sneaky looks to Craig while Craig kept sending obvious stares to the clock. Every time it happened Clyde couldn’t help but smile, and the one time Craig caught him, he did the unthinkable and smiled _back_. It was small, and Clyde probably would have missed it if he blinked, but he hadn’t, so he treasured that fraction of a moment for the rest of his night.

-

“And it just has the entire plot of everything, right here?” Clyde asked as Craig scrolled through SparkNotes the next day, his phone held between the two of them at the small lunch table in the corner of the cafeteria.

“Themes and stuff too. You can practically write your whole papers from these, just so long as you do all of the ‘in your own words’ crap,” Craig said.

“Hold on,” Clyde said, pulling out his own phone and giving it a few quick taps. “Aaaaand bookmarked.”

“Cool.” Craig slid his phone into his pocket and picked up his fork.

“Do you always eat your lunch alone over here?” Clyde asked, putting his own phone away to break into his soda.

Craig shrugged. “I don’t like people.”

“You don’t?” Suddenly Clyde was worried, even though this wasn’t exactly news. He figured he didn’t – it was common assumed knowledge that he didn’t – but outright saying it like that was a different thing entirely. Like, what about Clyde? Clyde was people too!

“Not really,” Craig said, leaning on his elbow as he cast his judgmental gaze over the cafeteria. “People are stupid. Annoying. Loud.” Clyde tried not to sweat over the fact that he was usually considered all of those things as Craig’s eyes drifted back to him. “So if you ever feel like sitting somewhere a little more quiet some days…”

The relief was immediate.

“Dude,” Clyde slammed his hand on the table, “I _love_ quiet!”

At first Craig just stared at him, but then his lip twitched up like he was somewhere between sort of and really amused, so Clyde was calling it a win. A big win.

And he was definitely going to make this lunch thing a thing.

-

“So Craig, I was thinking about getting a snake,” Clyde said casually as they departed from their seventh official lunch together.

Craig stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“Yeah man. What can I say? Sometimes I look over at your zoo and think, hey, maybe those things _can’t_ kill me.” Clyde gave him his best smile. “I don’t know anything about taking care of one though, or picking one out, so can you come with me to the pet store after school?”

Craig continued to stare at him like he was trying to figure out whether or not he was serious. He wasn’t – sorry Craig, you’re hot but snakes are freaky – but he didn’t need him knowing that so he made himself look as earnest as possible.

“Okay,” Craig said finally. Success. “I’ve been meaning to go there for a while now anyway.” _Double_ success. “Meet in the parking lot after school?”

“You know it!”

That’s exactly what they did, and Clyde drove them to the pet store from there.

“If you could get anything you wanted as a pet, what would it be?” Clyde asked as they headed to the entrance.

Craig thought about it. “Anything?”

“Anything,” Clyde confirmed. “That ‘How to Train Your Dragon’ shit? Totally an option.”

“Oh.” Strangely, Craig frowned. “I’ve never seen that movie.” And there was why.

“Seriously?”

“I want to, I just never had the chance.”

“Why didn’t you say? I have that movie.”

“Well it’s not like it ever- you do?”

“Yeah dude! How about I bring it over this weekend? And we can watch it together?” he suggested carefully, because weekends always played by different rules. Always. Craig probably needed a _really_ good reason to give anyone the time of day on a weekend. Clyde thought that a movie he wanted to see might be enough to cut it, but he wasn’t exactly sure until Craig graced him with another mild smile and nodded his confirmation.

“Saturday?”

_Saturday_. “Awesome.”

“Cool,” Craig said as they got inside the store. “Come on, the snakes are this way.”

Oh. Right. Eeeegh…

“All right, types,” Craig started as he led him to the snake aisle. It looked a lot like what he had in his room, except amplify the number and the creepy. Actually, maybe it was less creepy? They were just snakes after all, not spiders.

Fuck, how was he in a situation where that was better.

“So Zig and Zag are corn snakes,” Craig continued, speaking of his own, “and Spot’s a ball python. Corn snakes are easiest if you’re just starting out, and those are here.” He stopped when they were close, and gestured along the column at the end.

“Yep,” Clyde said, from a space and a half away, “these are definitely snakes.”

“Are there any you like the looks of? Any patterns that stand out?”

Uhh. “Of the half that aren’t hiding somewhere, that one looks kind of cool?” he managed, purely for the sake of responding. The sooner he got this part over with, man.

Craig nodded distractedly as he looked around. Then he raised his hand and gave it a little wave.

By the time Clyde figured out what he was doing, it was too late. The employee had joined them.

“Hey!” she greeted with proper retail cheer. “Back to the snakes, huh?” she asked then, a little more playfully. Oh god. Was Craig a regular?

“Yes, but not for me,” Craig answered, nodding at Clyde. “Could he see this brown one, right here?” he asked, while Clyde was too horrified for words.

“Got it.”

“That’s okay,” Clyde said, finding his voice really quickly when he realized she was _opening_ the thing, “I can just look at it from here, really, it’s fine.”

Craig looked back at him like it absolutely was not. “How can you decide if you want him or not before you hold him?”

_Him_.

“Don’t worry so much, he’s a sweetheart,” the woman promised kindly, lifting the snake up out of its glass snake box and holding it out to Clyde.

“I have no idea how to hold these things,” Clyde said, strained. It had already taken a lot of willpower for him not to step back when the snake was brought within what was probably its striking distance. “It’s a bad idea, I’d probably just drop, uh, _him_.”

“They’re good at wrapping around people. You’ll be fine,” Craig assured, like it was assuring, and like he wasn’t seeing its creepy little forked tongue slit in and out repeatedly.

Clyde might have to seriously reconsider how much he liked Craig, because the next thing he knew _holy shit he was holding a snake_.

“Craig, this is a snake.”

“Uh huh.”

“Craig, it’s moving.”

“Yep.”

“Craig,” he choked out as he stood completely still, “ _help_!”

“Here,” the employee said instead before reaching out to take it back, something she could not have done faster. “Still warming up to them a little, huh?” she asked, smiling with both apology and amusement.

Craig’s shoulders were shaking as he held his hand over his mouth, nothing but solid entertainment in his eyes. “Thank you,” he managed to the employee, though the lilts of his voice confirmed that he’d definitely been keeping in laughter. “We’ll let you know if we need any more help.”

“Sounds great,” she said cheerfully, put the snake away, then disappeared around the corner.

“Maybe snakes are better to just look at,” Clyde said, trying to relax his breathing. “What did you need to get here?” he asked, because they really didn’t need to stay on the topic of legless monsters, or Clyde’s totally _normal_ reaction to them.

“Mice,” Craig replied, lowering his hand. The smile he’d hidden behind it was still there, and Clyde had a hard time deciding whether he liked this one or not, it being at his expense and all.

“Mice? Okay dude, I get that you like animals, but how many more do you need?” And actually, “is it safe to keep pet mice and pet snakes in the same room?”

“The mice are for the snakes,” was his simple response.

“Oh,” Clyde said. “Oh. They’re for the snakes. Of course. You know, I can see why you’re right at home here. You’re an _animal_.”

Craig’s smile turned just a little bit feral in confirmation.

Jesus. Well, he guessed he was glad that one of them was having fun with this whole thing.

Except, he really was. Especially later, when the immediate danger was removed. He was never, _ever_ going to go with the pet excuse again – _way_ more than he signed up for – but Craig had a good time, with _him_ , and what beat that? He wanted to make him smile and be happy all the time, he really did.

So, after he dropped Craig off at his house, Clyde drove off to the nearest Best Buy to get himself a copy of _How to Train Your Dragon_.

-

“That was so good,” Craig said, eyes large enough to see the reflections of the rolling credits within them. His attention had been rapt on the screen since the movie began, and only when it was over did he turn to fix Clyde with a critical look. “There’s a second one too, right?” he demanded to know.

“Oh yeah.”

“Do you have it?”

“You bet I do,” he outright lied. “Next weekend?”

“No,” Craig said. “You live next door. Go get it.”

...About that. “I, uh, can’t.” He checked his phone. “I have curfew at eight. We wouldn’t be able to finish it.” And now he was making up excuses to _avoid_ spending more time with Craig. Fuck. First the snake thing, now this? Clyde really needed to work on reigning in his situations.

“On a Saturday? That’s lame dude. Bring it over Tuesday, then. Fuck studying.”

“I can do that!” Clyde exclaimed gleefully, before something occurred to him. “We’re still studying on Thursday though, right?” he asked, because yeah fuck studying and all, but he didn’t want to abolish it completely; not when that excuse was the best, most consistent one he had.

“Yeah, sure,” Craig shrugged. “Or we could find another movie. If you want,” he was fast to add before he did that thing where he looked away again, like the suggestion was somehow embarrassing.

“Hell yeah dude, that! Let’s do that,” Clyde agreed, naturally.

They talked for a little while longer before Clyde left, but Craig’s words stuck with him. No seriously, his eyes were wide open, and not just because he had to keep them on the road while he drove to buy the second _How to Train Your Dragon_. He was on the verge of something here, and when he got home he went straight for his desk, picked up a pen, and flipped his nearest notebook to a new page to make sense of it.

Time to do the math.

Okay, so, Craig. Craig’s time – ct, Clyde cleverly chose to write down – had a really high value. 100%, he decided, which he also wrote down. Now if anything wanted to be worth ct, it would have to have like, an equal value to that which d, Donovan – Clyde Donovan – did not have. Not until he added an excuse, x.

This was it, this was his equation. ct = d + x. Solving for it, now… well, one thing at a time.

First up, studying. That excuse? Pretty legit, and homework – h? – occupied ct anyway, so x basically overlapped it and took on the same value, 100. Clyde hadn’t really brought much to the table himself so d had nothing, but that was totally expected and totally fine, because d + x = 100 = ct. Logical, mathematical, and applicable to other school stuff like detention, so he skipped ahead to what was next: lunch.

Lunch, l, was a completely unexpected thing brought up by ct to replace x, with d still along for the ride, which would have been _huge_ except for all of it still had to follow the rules and space of s, school, so considering it from that angle… was really confusing, wow. Why did this one have more letters than numbers? He’d come back to it.

The pet store now. This x was the best, because it turned out that the pet store, ps, was already in the ct agenda so they equaled each other again. Even d had some value here because he had a car and could drive them, so it didn’t just even out, but brought things to like, 110, which seemed right considering how much fun Craig had. Clyde blocked out the snakes to smile at the memory before moving on.

Now here’s where things got a bit tricky. The movie, hhtyd. No arguing that the movie was great and made a great x in the first place, but Craig had agreed to see it with him today, on a weekend, on a Saturday. Saturdays were _the_ most valuable days of the week, and it would have been the same for ct. ct + s, which was maybe 50 or something, brought ct up to 150. And then since x(httyd) was already maxed out at 100%, d had to be worth more this time for everything to match up.

And even after that, there was more. Another httyd he understood, but it was going to replace studying. And then it turned into _any_ movie, that would _also_ replace studying. ct was a consonant variable, which meant it didn’t change, which meant that the change had to be somewhere on the d + x side, but- but _any_ movie meant that x could be _any_ number, which meant…

Clyde stared down at the notebook, tapping his pen against the initial ct = d + x several times, leaving more than a few black dots on the page as he wrapped his head around it.

Finally, he derived two things. One: he was _really_ good at math now, like, holy shit. He’d have to keep this secret and safe if he didn’t want to be pushed into joining the math club, damn. Two: things were different now, they had to be. All of the evidence was here.

ct didn’t need the x.

ct wanted the d.

Clyde set his pen down, taking a moment to give the far window a pensive stare.

He had to test this.

-

“Craig, I need your help. I’m trying to figure out what’s better, Ben & Jerry’s or Cold Stone. The last time I had them they _both_ seemed like the best thing ever, but it’s really important that I get this settled, and I’ll probably need a tiebreaker. Come with me to both after school today?”

“Yeah, okay.”

-

“Oh my god Craig, thank god you’re home. My car stalled. I called my dad, but he’s not going to be here for hours. Can I come inside to wait?”

“Clyde, you live next door.”

“Yeah, but it stalled in _your_ driveway. It’d be really weird if I went to my house while my car was stuck at yours.”

“…I guess it would be. Come inside, then.”

-

“Craig! Cartman doesn’t think I can cook, but I totally can. I have awesome recipes, and I’m going to make awesome dessert bars to prove him wrong.”

“Isn’t that baking?”

“Hey, I think it is. Heh, you’re so smart. Anyway, be my witness? You can totally have some.”

“That sounds really nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

-

It wasn’t even supposed to end there. Clyde had a whole ordered list of trivial excuses to keep steadily going down, but the sudden tantrum and subsequent quitting of one of the shoe store employees meant that Clyde’s dad needed him to help cover more shifts until he found a replacement.

That included Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Clyde still got to see Craig at lunch, but the extra work plus normal stuff like football, homework, and his usual shifts occupied most of his free time otherwise. It was two straight weeks before Clyde had secured a small window of precious free time on a Friday night, and in all of his excitement he couldn’t have caught up with Craig faster.

“Hey Craig!” he flagged him down outside the school after their last class, “I-”

“Finally. Over here,” Craig said as he pulled away from the beaten path of the sidewalk and students, obviously expecting Clyde to follow. He did. Craig stopped when they were standing at one of the secluded benches and turned to Clyde. “So, what do you need?” he asked expectantly.

Clyde stared at him for a long time. “My fridge is running,” he went with this time. “Dude, we have to go catch it.”

Craig stared back at him for longer. “Are you… you’re making fun of me,” he concluded. He was completely wrong, but that didn’t stop him from balling his hands into fists and giving Clyde a look he didn’t know how to define, except that it made him regret the stupid joke instantly.

“Look, just because I go along with all of your- and, just because I applied at your dad’s stupid store- maybe I’m _bored_ , or need the money, did you think about that? I don’t really _care_ , I’m not at your beck and goddamn call, and I _certainly_ don’t- shit, damnit, _fucking_ ,” Craig’s ever-present cool was rapidly spiraling away from him, and what’s more he appeared to be fully aware of it, because after one last glower at Clyde he turned away to save what he could of his burning red face.

Clyde stared wide-eyed at the back of his head as he stalked away. Maybe it was the wrong thing to focus on, but Craig, he…

He applied to the shoe store?

_ct + x_ …

“Craig, wait!”

Craig stopped, mid-stalk. “What?” he asked sourly.

“Please,” Clyde said as he jogged up to his back, “I really do need your help, I promise, just listen?”

“…With what.”

Clyde put a hand on Craig’s shoulder, and felt it tense up right after. Still, he used it as an anchor as he slowly walked around to face him again. “I need someone to take out on a date.” Boom. There it was. Craig’s lips parted, attention clearly captured, so he went on. “Now, I’m thinking someone tall, dark, handsome – the works, right? But also complex, like, maybe they’ve got this weird thing about creepy pets, but then they’ve also got this cute thing where they get all defensive and touchy about things they have no reason to be that way about, you know what I mean? That’s what I was hoping for anyway.”

“It is?” Craig asked, still cautious and still red, but take away the anger and add in- well, _something_ else that looked promising, so Clyde went out further on his limb.

“Yeah. And then I’d tell him so, and maybe he’d give in to this thing we obviously have and kiss me already.”

“The chances,” Craig said, lips curling as he smiled at last, “were a lot higher before you said it like that.”

“Fine, then I’ll kiss you.”

Clyde moved to make good on that but Craig was quick to sidestep, catching Clyde’s sides in his arms at the same time. Then he wrapped them around his back, and used the little bit of momentum to carry him down in a dip before he kissed him himself.

Clyde was way too down with this to protest. Even when Craig pulled back, he found it hard to do anything other than beam. “You’re into me,” he felt the serious need to point out.

“Duh,” Craig said almost blandly, except for he was still smiling too. He helped Clyde properly to his feet again, but only to lean in close right after. “Just so you know? If we’re doing this, you’re going to have to do something about your weekend curfew,” he said, his voice so low with suggestion that Clyde found it hard to find his own.

“Trust me, that’s not going to be a problem,” Clyde assured when he could. Then he reached out for Craig’s hand, paused, swallowed, calmed himself down, and took it.

Craig responded by neatly interlocking their fingers. “So, where are you taking me?”

That was a good question. Clyde was already over the moon. For Craig… probably somewhere they could sit down.

There were a few things he figured he should come clean about.


End file.
